Cupid Doesn't Use Arrows
by Tribble Master
Summary: When Dean comes home from home from school, much to Sam's dismay, Dean is bubbling with happines. Sam sneezes disaprovingly. Rated T for swearing, even though John says we should knock that sh*t off.


Happy Birthday SilentKnightInDisguise11!

**Challenge Issued By: **SilentKnightInDisguise11  
**Beta: **ClydeLives

**Cupid Doesn't Use Arrows**

Dean threw down his book bag on go the kitchen table with a big grin on his face. He didn't seem to be bothered by his singed coat or bruised torso as he continued to smile. The sloppy grin was an unconscious remnant of his joy.

Sam glared suspiciously from the motel bed. Around the small Winchester was a pile of tissues, opened and unopened cough drops, and a worn copy of _the Hobbit. _Sam watched Dean's movements carefully. He watched the unnatural spring in Dean's step as Dean happily got him a cup of tea, and he listened as Dean hummed some ridiculous cheery tune.

"Why are you so-" Sam sneezed loudly into his tissue. "-happy!?"

Dean handed him the tea and shrugged. Dean pulled up a chair. "Did you have a good day?"

Sam raised one eyebrow. "I've been home sick the whole day. What do you think?"

"That it was all sunshine and rainbows?" Dean snickered helpfully.

Sam threw an empty box of tissues at him. "Ha ha. What about your day?"

A dreamy look fell across Dean's face. "Nothing." He sighed happily.

"Don't give me that bull crap!" Sam chided. "Tell me!"

Dean smiled. "Alright, fine. I'll tell you about my day."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

It was the spring semester of Dean's freshman year at South High School. It was not going well.

Dean did not like Mathematics. He did not care that some numbers were imaginary. And he especially detested the fact that you could have pi, but it was only 3.14 and did not involve any apples. As far as Dean was concerned the only math he needed was subtraction. One angry spirit minus a burned corpse equals zero problems. There was nothing else, really.

Dean did not like English. He did not care that i came before e. As far as he knew, i came before e and p came before them both. It's not like he's going to write an iambic pentameter poem about his feelings. English was for chicks, and he most certainly was not a chick.

Dean did not like History. He did not care that some Bostonians had a tea party some hundred years ago. He only needed to know history of some towns, and that was enough to get him by. History was for dead guys, not him.

Dean did not like Science. He did not care that mole's could also be ridiculously small numbers instead of furry animals. Unless they let him use the lab to melt silver into bullets, it was another wasted class period.

But Dean loved Gym Class. He ran laps every morning, did push ups in the afternoon, and sparred at least every other day. When he went to Gym Class and saw all the other out of shape kids in his grade, he could only laugh. Gym Class was fun. His student record that trailed behind him from school to school, before it had been tampered with, used to have specific instructions to keep him out of dodge ball games. Too many broken noses and scrapped elbows ensued when Dean stood on the court with a rubber red ball in his hand. Now however, the record simply stated that he was a mild mannered kid and no one had to be any wiser.

Today was dodge ball day. Dean was looking forward to a way to work off his tension. His essay in History class on General Eisenhower during the Civil War had not gone well.

He looked around the court and laughed as he inspected the competition.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Today was Dodge ball day." Dean started his story.

Sam groaned and slapped a hand against his forehead. "You didn't…"

Dean smirked. "No one got hurt, okay?" Under his breath, he added, "That badly."

Sam rolled his eyes as he took a sip of tea. "Right. Well what did happen?"

Dean pushed the cough drops closer to him. "Just be quite and listen, alright?"

Sam nodded as he popped another sticky lozenge in his mouth. "Fine."

"There was the usual suspects standing against the wall." Dean gestured with his hands. "Fat kids and kids that liked to read instead of playing dodge ball, but there was also one more…"

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Alexandria leaned against the wall. She wore straight legged jeans, a grey v-neck shirt, and a bad attitude. People who knew her, and wanted to keep their limbs intact, called her Alex. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she chewed her spearmint gum slowly. She had short dark hair with blue bangs that swept against her forehead.

Dean figured he must have had something bad to eat for breakfast. Because his stomach was suddenly doing flip flops. Swallowing it back, his ears perked up as Coach Roth called everyone together.

As they were assigned teams, Dean noticed sadly that she had been put on the opposite team. It didn't matter, he tried to console himself, he was going to slaughter the whole class anyway. _Maybe,_ he thought morosely, _I should take her out first so she doesn't have to suffer._

Something else caught his attention about Alexandria. The fat kids, the nerdy kids, the semi-athletic kids had all taken notice of Dean. Aside from their usual distaste for the game, they had seen the dangerous looking new kid and begun to shift nervously from one foot to the next. But Alexandria was starring at him with a dangerous smile.

It was a challenge. Dean recognized that smile all to well; the slight curve of the lips, the malicious twinkle in the eye. She thought she was going to beat him.

All illusions of whatever the hell he'd been feeling disappeared as he clenched his jaw and took the start position.

Coach Roth set the six red balls along the median line of the gym. He took several steps back and hesitated before blowing the whistle. He sensed there was something different about today; an unusual air of competition. He was worried for a moment, about the trouble this might cause. But he thought better of it. He too, wanted to see the new kid try and survive in this game against the school Champion.

He blew his whistle and all hell broke loose as the game began.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"It was glorious, Sam." Dean smiled. "You should have been there."

"What happened? You were the winner?" Sam leaned toward him.

Dean's eyes got a faraway look of distant wonder as he recounted the battle. "It was longer than any of the other games I've played." He turned his head and focused on Sam. "You know what happened first."

"The fat kids." Sam said helpfully.

"Yep. The fat kids went down. Then the ones in glasses." Dean shook his head. "They were all casualties of a wayward ball, though. I wasn't aiming for them."

"But you won right?"

Dean looked at Sam solemnly. "No."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Alex cupped the red ball in her hand as she tracked the action. The blonde kid in the torn jeans was scrambling around faster than most. She wound up her arm and let loose a straight shot for the kid's ribs. Any other student would have been on their knees, begging to be put of their misery when that shot landed.

But Dean heard the whizzing sound of the incoming missile and dodged.

Alex scowled and picked up another ball.

Their eyes meet across the court. Dean shook his head at her disapprovingly. He picked up a ball, took two steps wound up and aimed.

Alex neatly sidestepped the attack and stuck her tongue out at him.

Behind her, a kid in glasses fell. Another causality of what was quickly becoming their war, soon to be recounted in horror to new freshman as The War of '95. Some kids slunk off the court, admitting defeat without getting hurt. Still, the balls flew left and right as the game continued.

John would have been ashamed. Usually Dean had the entire class beaten and begging for mercy in less than thirty minutes. It had been forty minutes so far. Class was almost over.

Soon, heaving and nearly out of breath Alex and Dean stood across from each other on the court. Alex was naturally paler than most, but now she was beat red. Dean's blonde hair was sticking up at odd angles frazzled, more so than usual. She brushed her bangs from her forehead as she prepared herself for one last stand.

There was one ball in the middle of the court. At Coach's whistle Dean and Alex both ran for it.

On the sidelines every kid waited with bated breath. This was unheard of. No one had beaten Alex since she started playing in middle school. Gum packs, and small bouncy balls were being used to bet on the outcome.

Dean's legs pumped as fast as he could, but Alex beat him to it. She picked it up and threw it as hard as she could.

As the ball smacked into his pectorals, Dean fell as if in slow motion. He hit the ground and looked up at Alex above him. She smiled softly and popped her gum. "Maybe next time, Hero." She said before walking away contentedly.

Dean didn't move from the court floor right away. He laid there oddly at peace for a few moments as he saw her image still hovering. He didn't even know her name.

He tenderly touched his chest and felt a bruise forming above his heart. Cupid doesn't use arrows. And suddenly, Dean wished he'd paid a little bit more attention in English class and how to write iambic pentameter.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"You got your ass kicked by a girl!" Sam said incredulously. He burst out laughing so hard, he broke into a fit of sneezes.

"That's not the point!" Dean grumbled. "At least let me finish."

"Are you saying you hit her back?" Sam threw his hands in the air, sending dirty tissues flying. "That's worse!"

"Shut up and drink your tea." Dean said sharply. "I'm not done."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Get me more tea first."

Dean reluctantly got up and retrieved another mug of hot liquid. As they settled back down he sighed. "It was lunch time next."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Dean could dig a perfect six foot deep hole. He could shoot a tin can off a tree branch twenty feet away. He could survive in the woods with a book of matches and one can of beans if necessary. He did not know, and could not understand, what it took to impress Alex.

He watched her move through out the cafeteria. Pulling out his tray, he slid down at seat next to her. Without looking up from her lunch she muttered, "Sorry. Only cool kids sit here."

Dean, not deterred, smiled at her trying to exude coolness personified. "Hi, I'm Dean."

She looked up at him. "I'm Alex." She said, regarding him warily.

"Alex." He said savoring the syllables.

Alex raised one eyebrow and shook her head. "So, new kid," She leaned closer to him, "who taught you how to play dodge ball so well?"

"Never really learned." Dean smirked. "I just play a lot of sports."

"Oh?" Alex set down her fork. "Like what?"

Dean fidgeted slightly. "Sparring."

Her eyes lit up. "Oh cool."

Dean relaxed his guard. "Yeah," he said coolly, "I'm kind of a jack of all trades."

Alex rolled her eyes. "Show off."

"No really!" Dean said trying to win back her attention. He shuffled in his pockets and pulled out his butterfly knife. "See? I keep this for protection!"

She shrugged noncommittally and held out her own small blue pocketknife. "So?"

Dean shoved the knife back into his own pocket. "You keep a knife?" he asked incredulously.

"Not so loud." She hissed as she stowed her own knife away. "Security would get pissed!"

Dean leaned close to Alex. "And about how pissed would you say they'd be if he skipped?"

"Hmm. At least a good suspension. Maybe we could be super seniors someday." Alex said sarcastically. She stabbed the meat like substance on her plate with her fork as she sighed. "Beside, how would we even get out of here? I'm sure you heard the rumor this place is modeled after a prison."

Dean laughed lightly. "Of course. I started it when I transferred here at the start of the semester."

Alex had to smile at that. "Cute. So what's the plan?"

Dean smirked. "Well, everyone has to evacuate if there's a fire drill."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Sam let out a small gasp. "You didn't." he said horrified.

Dean blinked innocently at him. Sam buried his face in his hands and muttered something about idiot brothers. Dean leaned over and patted his shoulder. "You're damn right I did."

Sam brushed his hand away. "You know what Dad says about swearing."

"Whatever. He's not here now, is he?" Dean looked around the room searching for their father. His head snapped around to face Sam. "See? Just us."

"Whatever. Finish." Sam fell a little deeper into his pillows.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Dean flicked his lighter open and shut as he waited nervously for the hallway to empty. Alex stood next to him popping her gum. "I'm missing math, y'know." She said. "Goniweicha is my favorite teacher."

"Trust me." Dean said as he watched the last kid leave the hallway. He turned to face the delicate alarm. "It'll be worth it."

Alex had to admit to herself, she was kind of enjoying this kid's attitude. She watched as he inspected the smoke alarm sensor. Dean pulled a wad of paper towels from his pocket and lit them on fire with one flick of the lighter. He waved it in front of the sensor, waiting impatiently for it to react.

Alex began to count on her fingers. "I can show you the arcade, the best ice cream shop in town, oh! And the library, there's one room that's super cool…" She looked up at him and frowned. "Why didn't you just pull the alarm?"

Dean froze as her infallible logic suddenly shattered his concentration. He turned his head to face her, "What?"

In his quick movement, his grip on the rapidly deteriorating paper loosened. Bits of burning paper fell onto his long sleeves and caught fire. "Shit!" he yelled before clamping his mouth shut. "I mean, Crap!"

Alex's eyes widened in shock, but she remained calm. "Stop, drop and roll Dean!"

Dean nodded and fell down as he tried to pat out the fire. In their commotion, the fire alarm went off and kids came pouring out in the hall. They all laughed at Dean rolling on the ground and Alex on her knees next to him, beating him. The fire was out, but something else was sparking.

Quickly, but not quick enough to stop the quick gossip rumors, the secretary came on the announcer and canceled the drill.

Security rounded up Dean to take him to the principal's office. As he was being led away Alex called after him, "Dean!"

Dean struggled against his captor, a large mannish security guard referred to by the student population as Sasquatch. "Yeah?" He called back as he twisted in the vile woman's grasp.

"I'll meet you out on the soccer field after school!" She yelled winking at him.

Sasquatch tugged on his elbow. "Quiet, Alex. I'll deal with you later." She turned to glare at Dean. "You, young man, are coming with me."

Dean got one last look at Alex before he was dragged away. She waved at him before turning to go to her class.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"So?" Sam raised an eyebrow as he propped himself up on his elbows. "You met her and- what?"

Dean leaned forward flashing a million watt grin. "We _kissed._" He wiggled his eyebrows as he added, "A lot."

Sam broke out into horse laughter. Dean looked puzzled. "What's so funny?"

Sam wiped tears from his eyes. "It's just, you're so ridiculous."

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, still feeling proud of his acomplishment. "Look, it's not like you've kissed a girl…"

"Kadde Conrad." Sam said defiantly. "Last week. Behind the bleachers, she and I made out."

Dean's jaw dropped, all traces of humor disappearing from his face. Reaching over for another tissue, Sam added, "Why do you think I have a cold?"

Dean sat in stunned silence as Sam sneezed loudly. He hoped the little bugger got mono.

**_The end_**


End file.
